


Fill Me Up Inside

by Gullviva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Bottom Draco, Glory Hole, M/M, Office Sex, Piercings, Powerful Harry, Top Harry, porn with little to no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 21:45:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6167785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gullviva/pseuds/Gullviva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry had only just returned from an extended stay with Ron and Hermione in Australia, when something quite unexpected happened in a public bathroom at the edge of Knockturn Alley. </p>
<p>Be prepared for convenient coincidences and boys freaking out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fill Me Up Inside

Harry slowly closed the old door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place and walked the few front steps down to the sleet covered street. He took a deep breath of cold and familiar — though, admittedly not quite fresh — London air. To be back here again, back _home_ , after almost a year and a half with Ron and Hermione in Australia, felt somewhat nostalgic.

He had a harder time defining his feelings concerning the place he was heading to next. Or not the place exactly, Fortescue’s was nice enough. What had him somewhat rattled was the fact that he would be meeting Ginny there.

Since the war, Harry had only really met her while being home briefly and visiting the Burrow for Christmas. He hadn’t really missed her while in Australia, but had naively thought that his feelings for Ginny would all come flooding back when he saw her again. That had, however, not been the case. Confused, Harry had withdrawn a bit and tried to avoid being alone with her until he could figure things out. Though with Ginny being Ginny, that hadn’t worked for long.

After ambushing him with a kiss under the mistletoe one night, she had told him that she was as in love with him as ever. Panicked, Harry had reminded her that he would be gone for at least another year and that they had decided against trying a long distance relationship. After a bit of huffing Ginny had agreed to go back to their original plan — to meet up when he came back for good, and see how they felt then.

This was the meeting he was on his way to right now.

After what had happened last Christmas, Harry was quite confused about his feelings for Ginny. Would the giddy feeling of being in love come back now that he knew that he was staying for good? After all, they were supposed to be together. Harry remembered how he had thought of her as a beacon of hope and happiness during those long nights on the run.

Maybe he shouldn’t have followed his friends across the world to help with Hermione’s parents after all… Even if staying in the media frenzy of Britain had seemed impossible at the time.

It felt like that perfect life that he had envisioned he would have after the war had gone off the rails before it had even had a chance to start.

Harry huffed out a breath and watched it dissipate like smoke in the cold air. He had reached the end of his wards, but was still hidden from view by the _Fidelius Charm_ for another few steps — it was time to apparate. Harry concentrated and started to turn.

But at the very last second he changed one of the three D’s — destination.

Harry appeared in a crack of light and magic at the apparition point at the juncture between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, off balance and feeling more than a little disoriented. He felt his magic swelling and alive around him. Harry took a steadying step and started patting himself down to make sure that he hadn’t splinched himself.

Thankfully, he found nothing missing. His magic had managed to keep him all in one piece against the odds. Straightening, he ran a hand through his messy dark hair and let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized that he was holding.

“Shite!”

That had been a monumentally stupid move!

This apparition point was the furthest one from Fortescue’s, while still technically being in Diagon Alley. In the last second before apparating, Harry had decided that a bit of a walk in the brisk winter air might be exactly what he needed to clear his head and get his feelings straight. _Stupid!_ He wasn’t a kid anymore. He should know better than to mess around while apparating.

Harry’s eyes fell on the tiny building that stood in connection to the apparition point. Many had one like it these days. He knew it contained bathrooms, but he had never entered one before. After all, traveling couldn’t get much faster than apparition, which made the age-old tradition of _‘go to the bathroom before we leave, so we won’t have to stop on the way’_ obsolete. Now however, Harry felt quite glad for the existence of the little house.

He made his way over and opened the somewhat rickety door before stepping inside. His legs felt a little shaky from the adrenaline still thrumming through his veins after the close call with the nearly-botched apparition.

The inside of the building was decorated in dark colours, and felt more in style with the gloomy Knockturn Alley than the brighter tones of Diagon Alley. Not that it mattered; Harry was only here to wash his face.

He walked over to the sinks and splashed himself with some much needed cold water. Harry steadied himself with both hands on the porcelain bowl and looked at his reflection in the smudged mirror — broad shoulders, dripping black hair and green uncertain looking eyes. Harry needed to get himself together.

There were stalls behind him and Harry suddenly felt like sitting down for a bit. He wasn’t in any real rush to get to the meeting with Ginny after all, as he had left Grimmauld Place quite a bit earlier than strictly needed.

Harry felt a simple privacy charm wash over him as he walked into the stall — one of those that deflected sound and smell. It was quite a nice touch in the, otherwise dingy, building.

Harry cast a few cleaning charms and sat down on the toilet, lid and trousers still on. He closed his eyes for a moment or two and just focused on breathing. In and out, in and out, in — and out.

As he opened his eyes again, feeling more relaxed, he caught sight of something unexpected and felt himself tense up once more.

There was a… hole. A hole situated at, presumably, crotch level in the wall shared with the stall next to his.

Harry swallowed. Was that a… glory hole? He thought that was what they were called. Harry had a dim memory of Seamus talking about such a thing, in an attempt to shock and intrigue his dorm mates.

Harry had, of course, never seen one before. And to be honest, he hadn’t quite believed them to be real when Seamus had talked about them. It had just sounded too much like an obscure dirty fantasy to be true. Because, who in their right mind would ever use it — would ever stick their prick in a random hole in the wall, or, would ever think to touch or _taste_ an unknown prick protruding from the wall? It just seemed too implausible to him.

Harry’s mind was racing with questions and as his eyes were still fixed at the hole he could see the light changing in the other stall. From dark to light, and back to dark again. The door had opened and someone had come inside.

Harry wrenched his eyes away from the hole, his pulse suddenly beating in his ears.

But he was being silly, of course he was! Just because there was a… a…. _stupid hole_ in the wall, that didn’t mean that Harry had to interact with it in any way. There was no need to panic, Harry had done nothing wrong! Just identifying the hole for what it was, did not automatically lead to using it. He hadn’t even really been thinking about it, not _really_.

Harry shook his head slowly and let out a low chuckle. The occupant of the other stall was probably a little old lady or something, someone who had no idea what the hole was even for. There had been absolutely no need for him to react at all. People used bathrooms; nothing strange about it.

But then there was movement in the periphery of his vision and Harry’s eyes were drawn —drawn back to the hole.

Harry’s breath stuttered as he saw long, pale fingers slowly stroking the rim of the hole in elegant motions. He couldn’t look away. The fingers looked delicate, but still somehow gave the impression of strength; they definitely did _not_ belong to any little old lady. They belonged to a man.

Harry didn’t know what to do — not what he was expected to do, nor what he wanted. His head was swarming with indecision and confusion as his eyes stayed fixed on those tantalizing fingers.

The occupant of the other stall wanted to use the hole!

Surely the man wanted to be on the receiving end of… Only, then he would have shoved something other than his fingers through the hole, wouldn’t he? But wait, why was Harry even thinking about this — he wasn’t _actually_ considering participating, was he?

Of course not. Absolutely not!

In fact, he should get out of here _right now_!

Harry stayed seated, as if he had become rooted to the spot, his eyes following the movement of the pale fingers. And weren’t they — yes, there it was again! The fingers made another beckoning motion and now Harry was sure he knew what the occupant of the other stall wanted. Surprised, he felt his prick filling at the mere thought of sticking it in the hole — of giving himself over to those deft looking fingers.

Harry groaned, this was just wrong. So wrong! And stupid, he shouldn’t get himself involved in a potential scandal the first thing he did after coming back to Britain.

But no one had to know, some seldom awoken part of him added helpfully. Harry absently rubbed himself through his jeans, never taking his eyes from those fingers. Wasn’t the anonymity like half the thrill in this type of setup anyway? The owner of the hand didn’t know who he was — and didn’t want to know. Harry’s identity was perfectly safe!

He could do this if he wanted to. Not that that was really even a question anymore; with the way his erection was now straining against the fabric of his trousers.

Harry took a calming breath and stood up on unsteady legs. He fumbled with his fly as he moved slowly towards the hole. The whole situation felt surreal, but that only seemed to add to the overall feeling that Harry was doing something dirty and erotic — like the whole thing was taken straight out of some seedy porno.

Harry groaned as he peeled away the damp layers of fabric and took his hard, throbbing prick in hand. He was big, quite a bit above average actually. And looking at the hole now he suddenly felt unsure if he would fit. What if he got stuck? That was sure to suck all the excitement out of this experience right fast.

But he had already gotten this far and couldn’t go back out on the street anymore without taking care of himself first, so he might as well try it. Just the head would probably fit fine…

Harry took a shaky breath and steered himself into the opening.

The anticipation and build-up of the whole situation made Harry give a full throated moan as soon as the occupant of the other stall touched the hot and sensitive skin of his erection. The delicate fingers ghosted over him in teasing patterns, seeming to want to pull him through further to the other side. Harry resisted at first, before he saw that the hole, like so many other seemingly ordinary things in the wizarding world, had magic of its own and widened to accommodate him.

Harry groaned and sank further into the unknown, letting his pelvic bone come to rest against the ratty looking stall.

The fingers played lightly over his heated skin. They felt smooth and strong as they slowly began pumping his erection. Harry bit into his lower lip, muffling a whining noise as those clever fingers explored the hot flesh of his leaking prick further.

The light stroking soon wasn’t enough, he needed more. Harry couldn’t stay still and started rutting slowly into the hole and those waiting hands.

A hand clamped down around the base of his prick. It didn’t quite reach all the way around, but the firm pressure was heaven after those careful, teasing touches. Then, Harry felt something hot and wet sliding up the underside of his prick and — _oh!_ — licking the bead of precum from the head. It had to be the man’s tongue but… there was also something else, something more.

“Oh dear Merlin.” Harry panted. It was a tongue piercing — and it felt incredible!

Harry’s hands splayed uselessly on the smooth surface of the stall, unable to find purchase. He gave a guttural groan and pushed harder into the hole to capture that wet heat.

The mouth was on him again, now enveloping the head of Harry’s prick into its incredible warmth. Harry felt like he was going mad as he was alternatively sucked down hard, before the pressure let up and that talented, ornamented tongue lapped over his slit.

Harry was moaning unreservedly, his head thrown back as he thrusted repeatedly into the hole and the waiting mouth on the other side. His half closed eyes flew open as he was taken down further still. Harry gave a broken noise when the throat closed around the head of his prick as the man swallowed. Even this far inside, Harry still wasn’t close to sheathed, but the hand kept applying pressure closer to the base and Harry felt completely enveloped in warmth and pleasure.

His thrusts were becoming more violent and erratic. He worried briefly about hurting that willing mouth and tried to rein himself back in, before the man — seeming to have understood Harry’s sudden hesitation — chuckled around his length, before urging him on. The vibrations did mad things to Harry.

The tongue and that deliciously naughty metal pearl were running all over him and making his head spin. When the piercing caught slightly on the head for the umpteenth time Harry could feel his balls draw up and his magic swirl and billow around him. Desperately, he pushed himself deeper into that tight heat and came _hard_.

Crying out his release, Harry emptied himself down the willing throat. The world, buzzing with magic, had become fuzzy around the edges.

When he had finished he began to pull back, but was stopped by a firm hand.

Harry obediently held still as his prick was licked well and truly clean by leisurely laps from that clever tongue. He took deep breaths, feeling spent, relaxed and utterly content — for, what he realized was, the first time since he had begun the preparations for coming back home to Britain. It made Harry pause.

That sweet mouth and those deft fingers let Harry go. He slowly pulled back into his own stall as the light once again changed on the other side of the wall and the occupant re-entered the real world, leaving their little bubble of un-reality behind forever. The thought left Harry feeling somewhat bereft, but also excited about the implications of living in a world where this kind of crazy and amazing thing could happen.

Harry leaned back against the opposite wall, tucking himself back into his trousers. He may still not know exactly what it was he wanted, but he could now say for sure that it wasn’t what everyone seemed to expect of him — marriage and a family with Ginny.

And now that he knew for sure that he was okay with men, as well as with women — that the silly crush he’d had on his surfing instructor hadn’t been just a one-off — the possibilities seemed endless. Harry couldn’t wait.

But first, he had an old girlfriend to try to let down easy. Harry straightened and moved towards the door, a spring in his step.

_____________________________________________________

Draco Malfoy was having a hard time letting go of the encounter he’d had in a dingy apparition bathroom last week.

The clown from Wilford and Associates was droning on and on about some legal drivel and Draco felt himself drift back to last Wednesday — his knees on that dirty floor, the weight and taste of the man’s glorious prick on his tongue and that deliciously powerful magic lapping at his skin.

Draco hummed in appreciation of the memory; this made the law associate, who seemed to have interpreted the sound as interest, excitedly go into further details about the already longwinded explanation of firm procedure.

The blond held back a groan, agitatedly letting the metal pearl in his mouth click against his teeth, but outwardly showing no signs of irritation.

He was good at keeping up the Malfoy mask by now. After all, this had been Draco’s life ever since the end of the war; charming uninteresting people, generously donating at charity galas and lowering himself to anyone and everyone who deemed themselves above him in this new political climate — anything to get the Malfoy name back to its former glory.

But it was making him feel empty, like he had nothing of himself left behind the front of the converted and apologetic pure-blood heir.

This empty feeling was what had first driven him to seek out the men, made him crave being filled with white hot cum and stuffed full of cock — anything to fill the void inside him.

Draco swirled the platinum bead around his mouth once more, letting the soft clicks sooth him. The piercing had been a small rebellion on his part; a way to remind himself that he was more than the façade he was showing to the world.

Wednesday had been particularly bad. Malfoy’s were meant to be at the top of the food chain, not licking the boots of some mid-level Ministry clerk. Draco had felt sick to his stomach, but kept smiling in the face of the increasingly more thinly veiled insults that were thrown at him. He had held his tongue and nodded through the list of unfair terms — all for the sake of receiving the Potioneer’s permit he was there to get.

After leaving the meeting without his permit and with orders to not come back without some additional and completely unnecessary documentation, Draco had stormed past the Ministry apparition point — determined to take another one, in an attempt to calm down before going back to his mother at the Manor.

Draco went past several apparition points along Diagon Alley, letting his anger and frustration lead him straight towards the one in the juncture to Knockturn Alley. As soon as he saw the little dingy-looking building attached, Draco realized what it was he needed in order to calm his nerves and purge the hollow feeling inside.

He didn’t usually indulge on a whim — after all; something like this could do irreparable damage to the already defaced Malfoy name. This was a risk he shouldn’t take after sacrificing so much to regain his family’s standing.

But he needed it, desperately! Draco licked his lips, hesitating outside the door.

He would feel better if he could just leave the decision up to someone else… Fate would have to decide. Draco smiled at the uncharacteristically romantic idea. If someone was already in there, he would offer his services, and if the bathroom was empty, he would just turn back around and go home. Draco nodded to himself and walked inside.

The bathroom hadn’t been empty…

The scraping of wooden chair legs on the floor alerted Draco to the fact that the meeting was ending. He gathered up the legal documents he had received and shook the associate’s offered hand before bidding him a good day and leaving the law office.

The weather was nice; not too cold and sunny. The meeting, though boring, had gone well and Draco had gotten what he came for. He felt good and there was absolutely no reason to seek out that dirty bathroom again, in hopes of encountering the mystery man with the giant prick and ridiculously powerful magic.

It had been a one-time thing and the chance of meeting the same man again was slim to none — certainly not high enough to risk exposing his secret coping mechanism to the entire wizarding world. Draco huffed and started walking.

This same argument had run through his head since last week. By now, Draco had explored it from every possible angle, making the same old thought patterns easy to drown out as his legs lead him closer and closer to the apparition point he had forbidden himself from using anymore.

But it was okay, because Draco was only going to show himself, once and for all, that the notion that he could meet the man again just by going there was absolutely ludicrous. Reaffirming the fact that the only thing in the building was a dirty bathroom would firmly disillusion him. It would rid him of the distracting wish to go there at all hours of the day and night, and Draco couldn’t wait!

As soon as he stepped inside he could feel the soft tingle of magic against his skin. It was the same magic. He was here! Draco’s well-hung mystery man was in one of the stalls right now!

Despite his reason for coming, this realization — perhaps unsurprisingly — didn’t make Draco disappointed in the slightest.

He felt like he floated, more than walked, over to the door of the same stall he had occupied last time. As he stepped inside, the magic of the privacy charms flowed over Draco, mingling with the tantalizing magic already filling the air.

Even before his eyes had really adjusted to the bad lighting in the stall, he could see that the hole was empty. Somehow, Draco realized, he had expected the huge leaking member to already be protruding from the wall, waiting for him.

Draco gave a low chuckle and leaned back against the opposite wall. His over-excited mind seemed to be running away with him just a bit. After all, for all the man on the other side knew, anyone could have just walked in; intending to take a leak instead of exchanging sexual favours. Exposing yourself to unwilling participants was just not the done thing — at least not if you wanted to avoid getting arrested.

Nothing happened. The magic leaking in from the other side was still tangible, so it was clear that the man hadn’t left. He was waiting. Waiting for an invitation, Draco realized with a thrill. Perhaps even for Draco specifically… perhaps the encounter had occupied his mind as much as it had Draco’s own since their last meeting.

He let out a shaky breath of anticipation and began slowly stroking the rim of the hole with his fingers, just as he had done last time. _Unlike_ last time, there was no beckoning or coaxing needed. Almost immediately, the leaking head of the prick Draco had dreamt about for the past week became visible on the other side of the hole, before pushing through it and into Draco’s stall.

The sight almost had him salivating, just like the first time he had seen the huge member strain against the diameter of the hole, forcing it to magically widen. Draco licked his lips greedily and surged forward, there was no room for teasing this time. He lapped at the shaft hungrily before licking his way up to the slit; tasting the heady, musky flavour on his tongue, as the other man’s magic crashed in waves around him.

Draco gripped harder around the base as he swallowed down the throbbing length. He moaned unashamedly around his mouthful. This — _this_ — was what he had been craving all week.

He was struggling to open his trousers with only one hand, but didn’t want to let go of the other man’s prick with his left hand. It took some manoeuvring, but he finally managed to get his fly open and could push the expensive trousers down to bunch around his knees on the dirty floor.

Draco couldn’t care less.

He pulled impatiently at his damp pants until he finally had his own blushing length in hand. Draco began pumping his prick in the same damning rhythm he was using with his mouth.

It felt good, _so good_. But it wasn’t enough; he needed more!

Draco moved in closer to the hole, his left hand letting go of its tight grip and instead trying to urge the man’s shallow thrusts on — making him fuck Draco’s throat.

The man on the other side seemed to be catching on as the strokes came faster and deeper, making the fat prick burrow far down Draco’s throat again and again as he desperately swallowed around it.

Having a huge cock down one’s throat makes it rather hard to breath and Draco was soon becoming lightheaded. Still furiously tugging at himself and with tears in his eyes, Draco didn’t want to let up. He still needed more. Needed to be filled up inside, to be stuffed to the breaking point.

Dizzy and reeling a bit from lack of oxygen, Draco finally pulled off and started scrambling for his wand.

There was no time to prepare manually, so Draco cast the uncomfortable preparation spell — making his arse slick and stretched, and ready. Absently, he also managed to cast a protection spell before standing up on unsteady legs.

The prick protruding from the hole had gone still when his mouth left it. It was now simply waiting for whatever would come next, glistening in the low light and pulsing in anticipation of the unknown.

Draco groaned, overcome with the need to pierce himself with the beastly beautiful cock. He turned around and spread his legs as far as possible with the restricting trousers still around his knees.

He positioned himself in front of the hole, grinding back against the hard cock behind him.

Draco had to steady himself then, and wait for a reaction. The man on the other side hadn’t agreed to this — using a glory hole usually only meant giving or receiving a blow job, after all. Draco held his breath, hoping the man would not withdraw.

He didn’t. Barely missing a beat, the thrusts started back up again with renewed vigour.

Draco moaned throatily, pushing back against the hard prick in time with the thrusts. The head caught on the rim of his hole over and over in a tantalizing rhythm, making his own head spin with need.

He canted his hips, changing the angle slightly — causing the head of the huge cock to suddenly breach him.

“Aahhng… Yes, Merlin!”

Draco was gasping for breath. The stretch was burning — _this_ was the feeling he had longed for! He started moving again, urging on the answering thrusts that had stuttered to a standstill at the sudden breach.

The thick member was inching its way deeper and deeper inside him with every thrust, stretching him relentlessly to accommodate its girth. When Draco was finally fully seated, with his flushed arse cheeks resting against the cold dividing wall, he felt more stuffed than he ever had in his life — no room for emptiness anywhere inside him; only hot, thick cock.

The thrusts soon started speeding up, drawing out almost completely before slamming back inside, brushing past a certain bundle of nerves with every stroke.

“Oh, yes! Aahh! Harder, harder — Ahhng! Merlin, _so good_!”

Draco was rambling, gasping out nonsense the other man couldn’t hear anyway. He didn’t care. He couldn’t think anymore, and he didn’t have to. He could just feel; drown in pleasure as the other man drove into him again and again.

Draco absently registered that he wasn’t the only one who seemed to have lost control. The stall wall was ringing from the impact of every thrust as the man on the other side slammed against it in his effort to drill deeper inside Draco.

“Yes, harder— Aahnnnng!”

Draco let out a full throated moan as he was rocked by a particularly hard stroke, and wedged himself against the hole by bracing against the opposite wall with his arms.

The thrusts were coming harder now, making it impossible for him to reach for his weeping prick if he wanted to stay standing to receive them. And he wanted that, more than anything.

Draco gasped weakly. He pushed back desperately against the increasingly erratic movements of that beast of a cock plunging repeatedly into the deepest parts him — signalling the nearing of the inevitable end.

Magic was swelling around him, sparks flashing in the air.

And then… Draco’s insides were suddenly flooded with hot release, and the feeling of being pumped full of liquid heat sent him over the edge.

His surroundings were lost in a dizzying swirl of colour and light. Draco cried out, his insides clamping down hard on the prick emptying itself inside him, as if desperate to drain it of every last drop.

After regaining his sight and taking a few steadying breaths Draco slowly let the softening member slide out of him. The loss made him feel empty, but content — a far cry from the desperate emptiness that usually plagued him. This had been good.

Draco stepped away from the wall on shaky legs. He picked up his wand and spelled away the stickiness making its way down his thighs in thick rivulets, before pulling up the pants and moving to refasten his trousers.

He was too lethargic to hurry, but he might not have done so even if he could have. Last time, Draco had left as fast as possible, the fear of being discovered coming back in full as his cloudy mind cleared.

This time he wanted to see who the other man was. He could still feel his magic, now calm, swirling lazily in the air — the other man also hadn’t left yet.

They were good together, undeniably, so maybe the other man could be persuaded into some sort of arrangement that didn’t involve seeking each other out in dingy public bathrooms.

Draco straightened his clothes and tried to coax his hair into lying artfully, instead of messily. If he looked good enough, the man might not even care that he was an ex-Death Eater. Or he might be one of those people who seemed to have a thing for it. Draco didn’t care either way, as long as he could be trusted to keep his mouth shut.

Deeming his appearance to be as good as it would get under the circumstances, Draco took a steadying breath and stepped out of the stall, with the warm beating of magic around him.

Potter.

The sound of Draco’s rushing blood seemed to be drowning out all other sounds. Of course it was Potter! Who else had that much magic? Honestly, had he even thought about it? Potter was the obvious candidate!

But Draco hadn’t even known the git was back in the country. He hadn’t seen Potter since his and his mother’s trials just after the war ended. But Draco still should have seen it coming.

The next realization that hit him was just as undeniable. Potter had grown up, and he looked good — all broad shoulders, strong jaw and piercing green eyes.

Eyes that slowly turned from confused to outraged, at the same time as the magic around them went from feeling mellow to oppressing.

Draco’s Malfoy mask was already firmly in place by this point. He could play this off, _he had to!_

“Potter.”

Draco gave a quick nod. He let his tone be polite, but reflect slight boredom — like he couldn’t care less about meeting the Saviour of the Wizarding World here, now and under these _very_ disturbing circumstances.

“Er…”

Draco walked past Potter and washed his hands briefly in the sink. A quick look in the mirror showed that the look on Potter’s face had gone back to confusion. Good!

Draco made his way to the door with a few sure steps; with an air he hoped would give the impression of not having a care in the world.

As soon as the door closed on Potter and his swirling magic, Draco dropped the calm pretence and sprinted to the apparition point, where he quickly turned on his heel and vanished.

_____________________________________________________

No.

No, that couldn’t possibly be right.

Harry was standing frozen in a dingy bathroom at the edge of Knockturn Alley. He had just had the sex of his life! And decided to wait outside the stall to meet the man responsible — only to have fucking _Malfoy_ walk out of the other stall.

Had the man who had been haunting Harry’s every waking hour, as well as his dreams, this past week been Malfoy all along? Had he been wanking himself raw to thoughts of _Malfoy’s_ clever fingers and hot mouth?

Had Harry just had mind-blowing sex in a public bathroom with _Draco Malfoy_? The thought was dizzying.

But oddly enough, Harry wasn’t as repulsed by it as he perhaps should have been.

On closer examination — all long elegant lines and glossy silver locks… Harry was startled to realize that Malfoy had looked gorgeous! When had _that_ happened?

What he hadn’t looked, though, was well-fucked — and certainly not by Harry! That would surely have caused at least some sort of frown to mar the blond’s delicate features.

But nothing! Malfoy hadn’t even ignored him; just calmly greeted him in passing, as if they were no more than distant acquaintances.

But they were more than that. Even if they hadn’t just fucked, they were still more than that! Right?

Maybe Malfoy didn’t think so… Maybe Malfoy had done some real growing-up in the time Harry had been gone, and now considered Harry Potter nothing more than someone he used to go to school with?

But they had been rivals, always getting under each other’s skin — and sixth year had been seriously intense…

Had it all been one-sided on Harry’s part?

Maybe Harry hadn’t even fucked him…

The hole was magical after all, and for all Harry knew, it could be pairing up with other magical stalls all over the country to match likeminded people. Malfoy could just have been in the real stall next to Harry’s, minding his own business and having no idea that Harry was one stall over, having the most amazing sex ever.

Harry felt dizzy again. It seemed possible; and judging by the way Malfoy had been acting when he saw Harry, it even seemed probable. Fuck!

Crushing disappointment washed over Harry.

_____________________________________________________

Harry didn’t go back to the building by the apparition point after that.

The realization that the man on the other side could have been Malfoy, and the fact that it hadn’t been him, had exacted a swift death to Harry’s new-found fascination with glory holes and anonymous sex.

In his dreams, the faceless man with the pierced tongue and amazingly tight arse had irreversibly turned into Malfoy. There was no dirty stall wall between them in those dreams; Malfoy’s stormy grey eyes looking up at him unobscured, and glinting with mischief.

Harry woke up sticky from those dreams; something that hadn’t really happened to him even as a fifteen year-old.

He gave a huge sigh, trying again to clear his mind of Malfoy.

Harry was sitting in the small lobby outside the offices of the Head Auror and his Deputy. He was here for a meeting with Shacklebolt; to talk about the possibility of Harry joining the Auror Department. And as per usual these days, he was here way too early. Hermione was definitely starting to rub off on him.

Speaking of rubbing off…

No! Harry groaned. He really, _really_ needed to stop thinking about Malfoy. After a week of this it had gone too far — especially as it now seemed like Harry was also starting to suffer hallucinations featuring the leggy blond.

Malfoy was steadily coming down the long Ministry hallway towards the lobby, seemingly, just as corporeal as usual. Shit, he was real! Harry sat up straighter in his cushy chair, self-consciously dragging a hand through his wild hair.

_Act normal!_

Harry inhaled deeply. Everything was okay. There was no way for Malfoy to know, just by looking, that Harry had jerked off to thoughts of him for the past week.

Fuck! Don’t think about it!

Everything was fine. Malfoy wouldn’t know, couldn’t know… unless he was a legilimens?!

Shit! Fuck! Shit!!

As Malfoy strolled into the lobby, Harry was aggressively thinking about fluffy clouds and puppy dogs.

Malfoy just gave him a short nod.

“Potter.”

Malfoy wore a polite but distant expression as he greeted Harry, before moving past the seating area, knocking on the door of the Deputy Head Auror’s office and going inside.

Adrenaline fizzled uselessly in Harry’s veins as he took a shaky gulp of air. What an anti-climax.

_____________________________________________________

Even with the office door closed, wispy tendrils of that familiar magic could still be felt leaking through. Draco’s heart was beating hard.

Well, that had been unexpected.

After not meeting the man for over a year, they had now run into each other no less than three times during the past two weeks.

Though, maybe “run into” wasn’t the best description…

Draco took a seat in the chair across the desk from his parole officer, Deputy Head Auror Mason. The middle-aged man looked up at Draco with his kind, but sharp, blue eyes.

“Hello, Mr Malfoy. How are you today?”

“Hello, Auror Mason. I am well. Thank you for asking.”

Draco smiled at the man who had greeted him in the same polite manner ever since they had first met — right after the trials, when everyone else still sneered unreservedly at him.

“Are you sure?”

There was a slight frown on the Auror’s face. He had always had the uncanny ability to see straight through any mask Draco wore — quite a handy ability for an Auror, to be sure.

Draco smiled more genuinely; he knew the older man was asking because he actually cared.

“I’m really fine, Auror Mason, honestly.”

The Auror looked him over for another minute before he seemed satisfied.

“Very well. Let’s start going over what you’ve been up to this the past month then, shall we?”

After some shuffling of the necessary forms, the routine questions started and Draco settled more comfortably in his chair.

“Have you been involved in any illegal activity since our last meeting?”

“I have not.”

Draco knew the questions by heart already, and answering them didn’t keep his full attention for long.

Letting his gaze fall on the door, Draco thought about the man sitting on the other side. Potter hadn’t seemed angry, at least. He had even looked reasonably friendly, and with no obvious hostility in the magic billowing around him.

It looked like Draco had been able to fool him with the nonchalance act.

Or… maybe Potter knew _exactly_ what they had done, and was fine with it? Maybe Potter still wanted him with the same greed he had shown in the bathroom stall.

Draco felt his pulse quicken, a soft hum leaving his lips.

Getting fucked by Potter had been breathtakingly amazing — rough and deeply fulfilling. Even after finding out the identity of his mystery man, Draco still hadn’t been able to make himself leave the memories alone for long. And the whispers of magic bleeding through the door now seemed to make it all come rushing back to him.

Potter’s thick cock pulsing slowly, glistening with Draco’s saliva.

Merlin, just remembering it now was making him hot.

Draco shifted slightly in the chair, adjusting his slowly filling length discreetly in his trousers. Auror Mason looked up at the movement but soon lowered his gaze to the papers again, resuming the questions.

“During the last month, have you been in contact with any known criminals and/or fugitives?”

“No.”

Draco hadn’t moved his hand away from his crotch yet, instead he started slowly running his thumb over his clothed erection.

Fuck, he wanted to do it again. Wanted to feel himself straining to accommodate the size of Potter’s heavy prick.

Draco’s voice was becoming breathy as he answered the ridiculous court appointed questions.

Potter way right outside the door. Right now. He could feel his magic in the air…

Fuck it! Draco bit his lip and started tugging at the fastenings of his trousers. He didn’t care anymore, he needed to be filled, now!

He let out a soft moan as he finally pulled his flushed prick from the confines of his pants. Draco licked a wet stripe over his palm and started stroking his length in long languid motions.

Auror Mason fell silent and as their eyes locked across the desk, the only thing that could be heard in the office was Draco’s panting breaths and the slick sounds as he rubbed the heated flesh of his erection.

The Auror’s lips slowly pulled into a grin full of teeth, his pupils dilating as he put down his quill.

“Have you been a good boy then, Draco?”

“Ahn, yes. Yes!”

Draco was moaning softly now, his hand moving faster. He tugged his foreskin back and forth, making the pink head of his cock repeatedly vanish and reappear in his fist — in a perverse mockery of peekaboo.

That such images even sparked in his mind just went to show how far gone he already was.

Auror Mason reached for the family photo on his desk and slowly tipped it over, leaving it laying face-down on the wood — without ever breaking eye contact with Draco.

Draco groaned low in his throat. He liked his parole officer, they got along well. Auror Mason was always professional and respectful… unless Draco explicitly asked for something else from him.

“How good have you been Draco?”

The Auror was still seated in his chair, eyes locked with Draco’s.

“I’ve been so good. Aah — _so_ good! Please!”

Draco slid down in the chair, making it easier for him to move, and started slowly rolling his hips to meet his pumping fist. He could feel Potter’s magic ghosting over his skin.

“’Please’ what?”

Auror Mason was still smiling, but the expression had turned down right predatory — a far cry from his usual friendly demeanour. Draco loved it.

“Mmm, reward me…” Draco tried to make the request sound saucy and playful, instead of betraying the raw need coursing through his body.

The Auror chuckled lowly. He always saw straight through Draco.

“You want me to reward you for being a good boy.”

Thought it had been more of a statement than a question, Draco answered anyway.

“Yes. Fuck me.”

His voice was breathy and heated. He couldn’t handle any more teasing; Draco needed to be filled right now.

Auror Mason stood up slowly and started unbuckling his belt.

“Then get on your feet and bend over.”

The low growl in his voice always made Draco shiver. He stood, pushing his pants and trousers all the way off, before spreading his legs wide and leaning over the polished, dark wood.

The Auror came around behind him, only opening his trousers just enough to get his straining erection free.

He was no Potter, to be sure, but the thick purpling head of his cock always managed to do the trick for Draco at times like this.

The tingle and slightly uncomfortable feeling of the preparation and protection spells washed over him. Draco could let himself go with the Auror, knowing he would be well taken care of.

Draco hummed as he ground his arse back against Auror Mason’s short, but fat, prick. After lining himself up, the Auror gripped Draco’s narrow hips and started pressing forward. Draco made a needy sound and braced himself on the desk. He pushed back hard against the intrusion, making the head pop through the ring of muscles, before plunging deeper inside.

“Mm, who’s a good boy?”

The Auror was leaning in close and all but purring the words into Draco’s neck.

“Me! I’m Ah! — _So good_!”

Draco gasped the words as he was rocked back and forth against the desk, speared on the Aurors cock.

“Yeah, you’re so good Draco. So tight!”

The Auror had a pension for dirty talk, and Draco always tried his best to oblige him — though the effort of constructing and articulating comprehensible speech whilst being buggered senseless proved too much for him at times.

“Aahnn… Want you deep inside me. Harder!”

Auror Mason’s hips were snapping back and forth, repeatedly sheathing himself fully in Draco before pulling out and slamming back in with renewed force.

“So good, Draco!”

“Yes, Merlin yes! Harder!”

Draco could almost taste Potter’s magic in the air. He was gasping — desperately impaling himself on the Auror’s fat prick, delirious as the feeling of it stretching his insides overtook him.

“Aah! Here it comes Draco! Are you ready to take it all?”

“Yes, yes! Fill me up!”

The Auror’s hips stuttered and in the next moment he was pumping Draco full of his seed.

Draco moaned in pleasure and reached one handed after his own prick. With the Auror still buried deep inside him, Draco tugged hard and fast at his over-sensitive cock — until he could feel himself cresting.

The Auror moaned brokenly as Draco clenched around him. Crying out his release, Draco draped bands of pearlescent liquid all over the half-finished report, and other presumably important documents, on the desk.

Draco felt like he was floating in perfect bliss. It would all work out. With or without Potter — he would be alright.

They separated slowly while catching their breaths, and then started dressing unhurriedly. After tucking himself back in, Auror Mason caught sight of the ruined paperwork on his desk and sighed.

Draco cringed at the mess.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Draco. I can write up new ones in no time.”

The kindly smile was back in place on the Auror’s face, though still with a certain edge.

“You are free to go, I can finish up the rest by myself — after all, I know perfectly well what a good boy you are.”

Draco snickered softly, looking over at the Auror after having deemed his appearance as presentable once more.

“You know I’m always good.”

“Yes, but if I always wrote your reports on my own you wouldn’t have a reason to visit — and you know how bored I get with only the blockheads around here for company.”

“I know. I’ll see you next month then.”

“Yes, very good. Enjoy your afternoon Mr Malfoy.”

“Thank you. Good day, Auror Mason.”

They shared a friendly silence before Draco turned and headed out the door, feeling feathery light and contented.

_____________________________________________________

  
Harry wasn’t feeling well at all, the sounds leaking out from the office definitely pointed to the fact that Malfoy was in there getting fucked by the Deputy Head Auror — and loving it!

Harry was burning with jealousy and violent desire, his prick pulsating hard in appreciation of every nasty thing falling from Malfoy’s lips.

Just as Harry seriously started fearing that he would come in his pants, right there in the Head Auror’s lobby — from Malfoy’s dirty mouth alone — the blond cried out and everything became quiet on the other side of the door.

The silence stretched without anything else happening and Harry was beginning to fear that he had imagined the whole thing. Just like last time! Because there was no way things like this actually happened in real life! He _really_ needed to get a hold of his overactive imagination!

Harry felt like he was going batty.

The door finally opened to reveal the Malfoy heir, looking as pristine and proper as ever. The blank look on his face threw Harry off; it looked wrong somehow.

As he walked past, Malfoy’s silver gaze fell on Harry for a second, before moving away — his serene expression remaining exactly the same throughout.

Harry felt the moment slipping away. He needed to know the truth — needed to know if he had imagined everything, or if he really had a chance with Malfoy — and if Harry didn’t ask him right now, he was afraid that he never would. Time to gather up the old Gryffindor courage!

Harry hastily rose to his feet.

“Malfoy, wait.”

The blond came to a stop and slowly turned back to face Harry.

“Yes, Potter?”

The serene expression was still in place over Malfoy’s once so expressive features, reminding Harry of nothing so much as a mask. He faltered somewhat.

“I just wanted to ask… if you’d bought any interesting jewellery lately,” Harry finished lamely.

Malfoy just looked at him vacantly for a moment as Harry fought the urge to look down at his own feet.

_____________________________________________________

Was Potter _actually_ referring to…?

Even though Draco had managed to give them both an out, Potter was now actively trying to engage him — him, _Draco_ — not the façade of the pleasant Malfoy heir.

Even though Potter knew perfectly well what kind of person Draco was.

Not even Auror Mason, with all his talk about Draco being a good boy, wanted Draco for himself, in the end.

But Potter did. Potter wanted him.

Draco felt excited, for the first time in a really long time.

_____________________________________________________

Harry stubbornly kept eye contact, unwilling to give in — when suddenly the mask shattered. The glassy look vanished from Malfoy’s features, as if it had never been. Those grey eyes now glinting like steel in sunlight, while his thin lips curved slowly into the most wicked looking smile Harry had ever seen. He felt his pulse speeding up; this was how Draco Malfoy was supposed to look; graceful — and dangerous.

“Jewellery?”

The word dripped from his lips like poisoned honey.

“You mean something like this?”

Malfoy slowly opened his mouth and extended his pink tongue; making the silver ornament that was speared through his flesh come into full view.

Harry’s eyes widened and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Yeah… like that.”

Harry’s voice sounded hoarse. Malfoy’s mouth pulled into a deliciously vicious smirk, his stormy grey eyes flashing, as if with lightning.

“You should send me an owl, Potter.”

Malfoy’s voice was full of bite and challenge — and promise, sending a thrill through Harry’s body. The blond turned sharply, walking away with a stride that seemed to proclaim his ownership of the ground below his feet.

“I will! I definitely will!” Harry called after him.

Wonder and anticipation was brimming inside him as his eyes followed Malfoy down the hall. Harry felt alive, his magic sparking in the air around him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading — and for your suspension of disbelief during the whole 'glory hole-part'! This was a silly idea that somehow took on a life of its own and dragged me along for the ride XP
> 
> I am new to this and would love to hear your thoughts on the fic.
> 
> Edit: Link to an illustration for Fill Me Up Inside; http://gullviva.tumblr.com/post/165183937588/twillpuff-jewellery-the-word-dripped-from-his


End file.
